3
Christian
I watched as she stood there, frozen, the color draining from her face. Her lips parted, but no words came out at first. Then, in a breathless stammer, she finally managed, "Oh my God, I—I…" Her voice faltered, her wide eyes darting around the office as if searching for an escape.
I leaned back against my desk, one ankle crossing over the other as I studied her through lidded eyes. The silence between us stretched, thick and suffocating. Then, without looking up, I turned my attention to my laptop, fingers skimming over the keys as I pulled up her details.
"Ruby Kensington," I murmured, letting the name settle on my tongue. My eyes flicked over the text. "Twenty-three years old. Majoring in software engineering." My brow lifted slightly. "Smart, aren't you? A 4.0 GPA… impressive."
I let that sink in for a moment before shifting my gaze to another section of the file—her background. My jaw tightened. Father: Maxwell Kensington. Mother: Eleanor Kensington. Sister: Amber Kensington. The names sat there, glaring at me from the screen like ghosts from the past. My fingers curled into a fist for a split second before I forced them to relax.
Still not looking at her, I drawled, "Do you normally stand during an interview? Or do you prefer keeping your distance from me since I'm such an asshole?"
She hesitated—just a second too long. I caught the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed, her fingers twitching at her sides before she finally moved. With a rushed, almost clumsy motion, she scurried toward the chair across from my desk and sat down.
The chair was sleek leather, designed for comfort, but she perched on the edge like she was expecting the floor to drop out from beneath her at any moment. I let my gaze roam over her, taking in the way her hands fidgeted slightly in her lap. She was nervous—good. She should be.
Then, my eyes caught something else. A loose button on her blouse. The undone fabric revealed the delicate lace of her bra, the faintest hint of her cleavage peeking through.
I scoffed, shifting my gaze away. Out of place. That's what she was. A Kensington, sitting in my office, looking like a deer caught in headlights.
She was scared. She was trying not to show it, but I could see right through her.
And for some reason, I fucking hated that.
I let the silence stretch between us, watching as she shifted slightly in her chair, her hands pressed against her lap as if to keep them from fidgeting.
"Alright," I said, leaning forward, my elbows resting on the edge of my desk. "What can you contribute to this company as an intern?"
She blinked, clearly trying to compose herself before she spoke. "Well, I believe my skills in software development and problem-solving would be an asset. During my time in university, I worked extensively with programming languages like Java, Python, and C++, and I have experience in front-end development as well. I also completed a project on AI-based predictive analytics, which—"
I cut her off with a sharp, uninterested tone. "So, you're good with code. And?"
She hesitated for only a fraction of a second before pressing on. "I have experience working in collaborative environments, and I excel at debugging and optimizing software for efficiency. Additionally, I've interned at a startup where I helped develop a cloud-based application that improved data storage accessibility—"
"That's cute," I interjected flatly. "But do you think you have what it takes to work at Royal Crest Holdings? Do you think those college projects are anywhere close to what we handle here?"
Her lips parted slightly, caught between a response and uncertainty. I didn't give her time to answer.
"How do you handle high-pressure environments?" I demanded.
"I—"
"Have you ever dealt with a multimillion-dollar system failure?"
"I—No, but I—"
"What about cybersecurity breaches? Can you code an emergency patch in under an hour?"
"I…" Her voice wavered, her confidence visibly cracking, but she squared her shoulders. "I may not have encountered that yet, but I learn fast, and I—"
Before she could finish, my desk phone rang. I shot her a look, warning her to stay silent as I picked up the receiver.
"What?" I answered impatiently.
"Sir," my secretary's voice came through the line. "The CEO of Hawthorne Global is here to see you."
I exhaled sharply through my nose, already losing interest in this conversation. Without another word, I stood, straightening my suit jacket. "That will be all, Miss Kensington. You can see yourself out."
Her brows pulled together. "Wait—what?"
"You heard me," I said, already rounding my desk.
"But—" She shot up from the chair, her hands pressing against the desk as she leaned forward slightly. "Mr. Royal, I—Did I do something wrong? I can—"
I lifted a hand, silencing her. "Stop talking, and see yourself out."
Her lips parted, as if she wanted to protest again, but I was already dismissing her, my focus shifting to the meeting that actually mattered.
She wasn't worth another second of my time.
But just as I was about to walk towards the exit door, her voice trembled behind me.
"Wait… please."
I turned my head slightly, arching a brow at her.
She stood there, gripping the edge of the chair like it was the only thing keeping her upright. The confidence she'd struggled to hold onto was crumbling before my eyes.
"I'm sorry," she blurted out, her voice laced with urgency. "I—I mean about earlier, the elevator—" Her hands twisted together as she took a shaky breath. "Please, don't reject me because of that. I really need this internship. I swear I'll work hard, I'll prove myself. Just… please."
I watched, my expression blank, as she swallowed hard and took a small step forward.
"I'll do anything," she whispered, her desperation thick in the air. "Anything to get this opportunity."
That made me pause.
I slowly turned, my gaze sweeping over her. She was a mess of nerves, shifting on her feet, but her eyes held mine, pleading.
Pathetic.
I let the silence stretch, savoring the way her breath hitched under my scrutiny. Then, with deliberate slowness, I sat and leaned back against my desk, crossing my arms.
"Anything, huh?" My voice was laced with amusement, but underneath, it was cold.
She stiffened, realizing how her words could be interpreted. "I—I didn't mean it like that, I just—"
I scoffed, shaking my head. "Enough."
Her lips pressed together.
"You're wasting my time, Miss Kensington. I said you can see yourself out. I won't ask again."
Her entire body jerked as if I'd struck her.
She disappeared through the door without another word.
I smirked.
She thought I was rejecting her. Thought I was kicking her out of my world.
But that wasn't the case.
No.
This was only the beginning.
I would absolutely admit her as an intern.
Not just because she was smart—though her qualifications were impressive. A 4.0 GPA, software engineering major, highly skilled in development and cybersecurity. She would be an asset.
But that wasn't the real reason.
No.
The real reason was far more sinister.
Her father—Maxwell Kensington—ruined my life twenty-four years ago.
I spent the last fourteen searching for the man who helped kill my mother. And earlier this year, I finally found him.
Maxwell Kensington.
I'd been planning my revenge for months. Calculating every move, waiting for the right moment to destroy him and everything he cared about.
And now, fate had just delivered his daughter right into my hands.
This was going to be fun.